Beyond Humanity
by D. Magis
Summary: Zamorak has left Runescape an apocalyptic wasteland when he was rejected after his latest attempt to woo the Destroyer. This is the epic of the young elf that saved Runescape and its races from falling into the ashes. Reviews very much appreciated.
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

A flash of white burst from the trees. Wings flashing a silvery white in the light of the midnight moon, a small dove with a white band wrapped around its ankle flew with the hounds of hell on its heels. Spotting a great oak a league ahead, its energy was renewed and it increased its speed every so slightly. Finally reaching the safety of the tree's great branches, the dove settled down to finally rest. The small of its breast rose up and down as the dove swiveled its head, making sure that danger was out of reach. Just as it was about to slip into unconsciousness, it was startled awake when below, a dark figure burst from a nearby cropping of birch trees.

Sprinting, the figure moved quickly. It was obliviously human, clothed in dark black robes with a hood that fell over their face. They also seemed to be carrying something wrapped in similar clothing. Looking back, they tripped over a hidden rock. Their hood fell back as they reached out to keep from falling on whatever they were holding. The gleam of the moon revealed them to be a human woman. Though she was obviously middle aged, streaks of silver shone in her dark hair. Suddenly, the trees that she just ran from burst into flame which she responded to with an involuntary yelp. Struggling, the woman tried to get up again. But, when she got to a nearly standing position, she fell to the ground again with a groan. Her ankle would not support her weight. Accepting her defeat, the woman succumbed to silent sobs. The parcel she held against her bosom suddenly moved. The woman pulled back the folds the cloth to reveal the face of an infant with a crop of ebony hair and ever-so-slightly pointed ears. It, seeing the fire, started crying. Motherly instinct overrode the woman's panic, and she tried to quiet it. She didn't care what happened to her; she only wanted to save the child.

As if Zamorak only wanted to prolong her pain even more, a goblin ran out of the flaming mass of trees. As it neared, it became apparent that is was a cave goblin. It was probably nearly completely blinded from the flames. Nearing the woman, the goblin noticed her. The woman yelled out, "No, NO! Leave my baby be! Don't harm her!"

Ignoring her, the goblin moved closer. The woman still yelling, it whispered into her ear, "Human woman, I mean no harm to your child. I am a priestess of the gods of our clans. I was told by our great and all powerful deity that I was to save a human child that will save our world. I will save her. The people of her father will be her guardians. Trust me with her, I swear it in blood." With that, the goblin cut her hand with the bone dagger in her belt, letting crimson drops fall into the dirt. The woman then calmed down, watching the process with wide eyes.

She replied, "Creature of the dark, you have sworn in blood that you will protect my child. Let it be so, and be off into the night. Run until you cannot run any longer, and deliver her with faith. May the wings of the messengers of the gods be on your shoulders. And when you reach those who guard the entrance to the land of the faire ones, speak these words of trust." With that, she whispered into the goblin's ear the words that would save her child. She then thrust the dark bundle into the goblin's arms.

The goblin immediately ran as fast as she could with her short legs, shielding her eyes from the fire's merciless glare. As she reached a league from where she met the woman, agonizing screams let up from the inferno behind her. The goblin did not break her stride, but glistening tears ran down her face for the life of the one that though she had little time with, sacrificed her own life for that of her child's.

**Reviews very much appreciated. If or when I get feedback, I'll start writing more. So, the more you write the more I write. No feedback, no more Dark. Cameos considered, and suggestions about the plot not all discouraged. Many thanks for anything you can offer!**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Dark, wait up!" called Aeron, from his illustrious white steed. They were riding against each other, and like always Dark was beating him. She merely laughed in reply, riding against the neck of her black stallion fast enough to make sure that Aeron couldn't catch her any time soon. If a complete stranger were to look upon the two of them, they would be completely speechless. For two elves riding bareback on elven-bred horses at extraordinary speeds is indeed a very speechless site. One could compare such an event to the grace of which a lioness chases her prey, toying with it before rendering it immobile with a seemingly effortless swipe of paw. And in essence, that was exactly what Dark was doing to Aeron.

They were in a meadow, on of the few in the great forest of Tirranwn. It stretched for a good league and a half, absolutely brimming with life. A stream ran down the center of it, where deer and other creatures of the forest and meadow drank and exchanged the gossip of the forest known only by its inhabitants. A pair of mockingbirds flew above, swinging their sweet tune, unperturbed by the mountainous beasts below them. It was a peaceful place, and Dark and Aeron's caravan was camped somewhere nearby in the woods. Though the meadow was indeed very beautiful, it was the fashion of the nomadic elves of Isafdar to stay within their natural habitat, under the shadows of the trees.

Dark continue to ride, until she was sure that Aeron would soon give up. She finally let up and whispered calming words to her mount, slowing it. Aeron quickly covered the distance, and slowed to a meandering pace next to her. With a sigh, he looked at Dark with an almost amused gaze. She merely smiled, silently gloating over the fact that she beat her elder brother for the umpteenth time. They both had known how to ride since they were but little youths, always bareback, never confining such magnificent beasts to a bit and tack. But since they were youths Dark had always surpassed anyone save the most skillful rangers in riding. Aeron had always hoped to humble her if he could beat her once, but he had never yet earned the pleasure.

Words did not need to pass between the two. They accepted the peace of their surroundings, and relaxed to enjoy the beauty of them. Aeron, fair haired and tall sat proudly in his saddle, accepting his defeat with the numerous others he had collected over the years. He came to a realization long ago that if he let himself continually be disappointed by the inevitable, he would never be happy. So, wearing an almost foolish grin, he continued riding along the winding stream that split the valley. Dark, over the fact that she had beat Aeron, did likewise.

It was actually a very interesting story as to how she received her name. Found as merely a babe by the guards of the pass, her most obvious characteristic was that she had dark, almost-black, brown hair despite being an elf. Most elves, like Aeron, had fairer hair. Her eyes also where was another dominating feature of hers. They were a deep, deep hazel. Flecks of orange stood out against the cobalt iris of her eyes, making them also unlike the pale blue eyes of most elves. The guards, not knowing what else to call such an oddity, merely dubbed her Dark. And the name stuck. That was thirteen years ago, making Aeron her elder by four. Thirteen years ago was also when the ceremony that bonded Aeron and Dark as sister and brother was performed, also bonding Aeron's parents as Dark's parents in bond. But, because the ceremony was performed specifically between an infant Dark and a confused but willing Aeron, their bond was strongest. That bond would continue to strengthen over the years as Dark and Aeron grew closer. Aeron was a good older brother, being wise and level-headed; Dark a mischievous and trouble-making but loving sister.

Still, despite the bond that held Dark to the people of the nomadic tribe of Isafdar, she was still shunned in ways. Other children her age weren't mean to her, yet they never really accepted her. She was always kept at arm's length, never drawing close to anyone except Aeron, her parents, and a few adults. But Dark didn't care. She was clever enough to make her own entertainment, and she always enjoyed learning new things. The Elder's stories that bored other children still intrigued her, and she never grew tired of them. But curiosity can also provoke naivety, and more than once Dark has gotten into trouble for something or another when she wasn't careful; this also marked her as one that rocked the precious balance that governed most of the people of Tirranwn's lives.

All of a sudden, a wily youth sprung from the trees. Dark and Aeron noticed him with some interest, riding towards him. The youth had wheat-blond hair pulled back into a small braid at the nape of his neck with a perpetual smirk posed at the corners of his mouth. Approaching Dark and Aeron, he called out, "Aeron! The Elders look for you. We are to leave for Lletya within the next two hours."

Dark rolled her eyes, used to being ignored but was irritated nonetheless. After delivering his message, the boy ran back through the woods as quickly as he came. Through unspoken words, Dark and Aeron raced towards in the trees in another futile competition. Through no one's surprise, Dark reached the edge of the meadow first. Waiting for Aeron, they maintained a quick trot until they arrived at camp. They tied up their horses, and made quick work of making sure their belongings were accounted for and tied down. Checking in with their somewhat annoyed parents, the caravan was ready to move. Elves tend to be quicker than humans in any job they do, no matter how simple. Dark and Aeron once again mounted their steeds, and followed the caravan from the back as was their duty given to them by their parents and another village Elder as though Dark repeatedly beat Aeron in races, he was still the second to best rider in the clan.

Dark and Aeron relaxed, lulled by their horses' methodical rhythm, somewhat tired from the day's exercises and eager to be back in a bit less temporary home.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

As soon as they reached Lletya, Dark went to the tree where the Head Elf resided. She knew she had to see if there were other survivors out there, and asking permission of the Elder was to be the first step of her long journey. The elves could help, more than anyone, she knew. Her people knew healing ways, ways that even the most skilled human healers could never perform. She gently rang the chime that hung outside of the canopy of leaves of the Elder's tree. "Come in," rang a deep, warm voice. Dark stepped inside.

"Greetings, Elder," Dark said, bowing and making the traditional hand signs. 

"Greetings young one," the Elder replied, signing in return. "It has been a long time since I have seen you. How have you been faring? Has Aeron been looking after you?"

"Yes, Elder, I have been fine. Aeron needs not to look after me. Rather he's the one who need to be looked after," replied Dark, with a smirk.

Chuckling, the Elder said, "Yes, well, he has always had a good spirit, if a little absent minded. Now, have you come to call on me merely to banter on about such irrelevant matters, or have you something to ask me?"

"Elder, I have come with a request. A small one, though one I wish you to know of before I make any further arrangements to carry it out. I wish to travel outside of Tirranwn, and to Kandarin and Asgarnia and the lands beyond, to seek those who need our help. Outside of Isadfar, dark times remain, and our people can help them."

"Yes, you certainly have an interesting idea too. No doubt it would also give you the chance to meet some humans outside of our forest, as well as to learn more of your Elders and ancestors. Your elven heritage is very important, but so is your other half of being. I advise you learn as much as you can about both. I deem you responsible enough. Very well. But Aeron must come with you." 

"Yes Elder. Thank you. I shall leave by the shining of Seren's light tomorrow morn." But inside, she secretly worried. Aeron did not like to travel outside of Tirranwn. It would be hard to convince him to leave the very lands that he group up in for almost a century.

On her way back, Dark found Aeron flirting with a neighbor. Rolling her eyes, she walked up to him and tapped him on his shoulder. He muttered a hasty goodbye, and followed Dark to behind the tent. "Hey. What's up?" said Aeron. 

"Aeron, I am going to travel outside of Tirranwn," continuing despite Aeron's widening eyes, "and I am going to find survivors. We can help them. Together, me and you. You know our people can heal better than even the humans' most skilled healers, and those will be extremely scarce." 

After a moment's though, Aeron decided it would be useless to try to argue with Dark. Though she had (most of the time) the peaceful nature of an elf, she still could be headstrong. And deep down, he confronted the truth that maybe they really would be able to make a difference. With a slightly bemused, he said, "Did I ever have a choice?"

And thus, the great journey that was to be known centuries after by both humans and elves began.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dark packed up her things, taking what she would need such as the potions that she made with guidance and blessings from the Spirit-Seers, as well as her bow and sword. Both of which she held fond memories for, having both made them herself under the traditional coming of age ceremonies held by her family and the local crafters. Lastly, she found her midnight black traveling cloak with an intricately crafted silver fastener at the top that depicted the symbol of Guthix. She has always worshipped Seren, the deity of her ancestors, and it was an interesting story as to how she obtained the cloak.

~Flashback~  
She was the age of 11, and had known the secrets of runecrafting since before she was half that age. One day, her caravan was camped near the pass, and a rare human was wandering by. No, that's not right. He wasn't wandering. Rather, traveling; journeying. He was at about the age of 70, with a long white beard; though Dark had the impression that he was much, much older. He was dressed in the robes of the Dagon'Hai, most unusual. It was surprising the archers had not shot him down on sight by now. How dare he wander into the pure forest of Isafdar, and broadcast his loyalty of the chaotic and idiotic god Zamorak! Dark was enraged at the though. But, the archers were not at their posts. No one was disturbed by this site; it seemed that no one even noticed his presence. She asked Aeron , and he replied, "The Elders feel a purity about him. What he wears is merely a guise, and what lies below cannot possibly be concealed to our people. His aura is too bright. Can you not see it? Dark, remember your words," he said, in a slightly mocking tone. "You should get in the habit now, because if you wait too long, you will always have to rely on them, and it will become harder and harder to access the magick that it takes to throw them."

Dark whispered a few select words of the ancient language (having to be creative, as she had not yet learned very much of it; even the oldest elders did not know the whole language), and what shone from the stranger nearly blinded me! His purity was too bright. She, being curious, walked to where he was. "Stranger, why do you walk in the forest, avoiding the traps as you do, and wearing what you do?" To that, he chuckled, and the Dark could've sworn right then and there to Seren Herself the very trees danced to his laughter.

"Child, sit with me, and talk. It is a peaceful time, but it won't be for long. Still, let us enjoy it for while it lasts." He then proceeded to pull out various objects from the deep pockets of his robes, until he had laid out a tinderbox, and a few strips of salted cod. "Quickly! Look over there! Why, that's a Saradomin owl! How in Runescape do you think it got here?" the stranger suddenly yelled, with wide eyes.

Outraged as to why such a creature would dare even fly within the boundaries of Isafdar (elves tend to be very touchy about religious matters), Dark had her bow already out and an arrow strung. But no such bird was in sight! 

When she turned back, a fire was roaring, and the cod were interestingly floating above the fire. This stranger was indeed very unusual. "Now child, listen to me, and listen to me very carefully. There will be a time of war, soon. And you must survive. You will be the future of your people, and those who dwell outside of Tirranwn. Do not go outside the boundaries of Tirranwn, and the pass, not until the flash of the green dawn against Seren's palace. Child, what do you know of the ancient language?"

Still confused, Dark replied, "I know enough to use my cleverness to get what is needed done, but still not as much as needed altogether. Elder, I will continue with my studies tenfold if needed."

"See to it that you do. Your life and others might very well depend on your knowledge of those words. You have a future that lies outside of the elves, Dark. Do you understand?"

Again, she said, "Yes."

"You will not understand yet what I am talking about. You will not understand until the war. Not even why I am wearing what I am wearing (and by the way, I mean no offence to you or your people). As I said, continue with your studies, and remember: what you learn now may save lives later." With that, he leaned back and told me great tales of giants, and gods, and heroes. Stories that Dark had never heard before, and that she knew the Elders did not even know. With that stranger, Dark remembered a certain peace that surrounded their little camp. There were no animal calls that she had become accustomed to in my years of roaming the woods. Perhaps they had all stopped, to listen to the wise stranger's words.

It seemed as if she had been there only listening, for several days when the stranger suddenly turned his head up. She came out of a sort of daze, then. Dark looked at the fire, wondering why it hadn't yet burned down or why the cod hadn't been burnt. The old man opened his mouth and looking into her eyes said, "Child, it is my time to go. I have not been to Tirranwn in what has felt like many centuries, and it brought joy to my heart to encounter a youth as curious and patient as to listen to a crotchety old man's stories. For that, I thank you. But unfortunately I have to go. So farewell, and let me part you with this knowledge: when you need a weapon, go to the roots of a whistling tree in the lands of the north, and when all seems lost and your power insufficient, go to the prison that is guarded by a fierce serpent, and speak the holy words to open the gate of the Gods."

Shut your eyes, I am going to take the cod off. Boiling juices somehow find their way to the most sensitive places."

Dark shut her eyes, and when she opened them, she was not the least bit surprised to find him gone. It was then too, that Dark realized not once had she told him her name, yet he somehow knew it. In the stranger's place lay a black traveling cloak, and Dark knew then that she had been visited by the very creator of our forest, Guthix. She had been blessed by the wisest and most powerful of the gods. Dark felt a new power, and put the robes on. A new magick, an ancient magick, rippled through the cloth. She didn't know what their use was yet, but in time...

~Flashback Ended~


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Dark finished packing up, and met Aeron outside of her tent. "Have you got everything? The map?" she asked.

"Yes, yes" replied Aeron, impatient. Dark could be a bit pestering at times.

"Then let's go," Dark said with a deciding nod. Waving, and saying goodbye, they swiftly departed camp. It would take until dark to reach the wall of the pass. They trusted the forest, more than they did the world outside the pass. Then, the next morning they would set off for the Gnome Stronghold. It would take a few weeks, so they would also stop in Yanille, and the surrounding towns.

"Wait!" a voice called out just as they were about to leave Lletya. A woman suddenly burst from the crowd, and ran to Dark and Aeron. She was quite taller than Dark, though Aeron still towered slightly above her. The woman looked like most elves, with tan skin and fair hair, though she had a kind twist to the corners of her mouth that were unfortunately absent for most in Lletya and Isafdar. It was Dark and Aeron's mother, holding a sort of parcel. "You have not yet said goodbye," she said with a smile.

"Mother, you worry too much. I had wished to avoid this," replied Aeron with an oh-so-similar smile.

"What harm is it for a mother to worry about her children? Besides, I have something to give you." With that she took out the parcel, wrapped in leaves the size of dinner plates. Slowly unwrapping it, the parcel revealed to be a book. It was not like the books they studied from though; this one was leather bound, with very old parchment pages held together by a golden lock on the cover. "Take this, you will need it. This tells you of various healing herbs and techniques that the Elders have learned and known over the years. But there are only two copies of this book, so please keep that in mind before you are about to walk into a volcano," Dark and Aeron's mother explained with a now melancholy smile. She, like the others, was very worried. For all she knew, this would be her last time seeing her children.

With more hugs and tearful goodbyes and thank-yous, Dark and Aeron finally walked outside the boundaries of Lletya. They walked with a good pace, pointing out the traps every so often. They did not stop until they reached the bog, where they cast a few spells to repel the toxic gas and muck from their shoes, and also for a small lunch of berries and dried meat.

They arrived at the gate some time later. They had made good time, and arrived on schedule. The sun was just setting, and before Dark and Aeron set up camp, they made the traditional signs to praise Seren. Skillfully and quickly, they wove blanket-like sleeping sacks from fallen leaves and vines. This was one of the survival techniques they were taught in the small school one of the more scholarly Elders from the caravan set up. Dark and Aeron both excelled in that class, and were so skillful that the blankets were practically watertight.

Dark made a fire of nearby shrubbery. This was another skill they were taught in school, as there was rarely anything dry enough to properly start a fire. What she did was find some vines and leaves that absorbed the most water. Because of the science of gravity and attraction, it is easier to drain something with much water in it than something that has only a few drops. She made a few slits, and then hung the vegetation upside down. Soon there was enough tinder to start a proper fire.

With that, Aeron started cooking the rest of the Pawya meat. It was going to be his last meal in Tirranwn before journeying outside the lands he had love for so long, he thought with a melancholy sigh. But, he also knew it was his duty to protect Dark, and not just because he was bonded to her.

Unknown to Dark, before she was old enough to remember it, one of the Elders made a prophecy. In fact, _the _Elder made the prophecy. She was the oldest of all the tribes; the matriarch. And though it was known to only two people in Runescape, she herself was only part elf. Like Dark, she was also part human; which made what she said not only direly important, but a true prophecy. Interestingly enough, the Elder dies only several days after addressing Aeron's family and the elf that was to become th new Head Elf (the one that Dark spoke to). Regardless of the prophecy though, Aeron always knew Dark was special. A sort of aura hung about her, something he knew she would be hunted for; pursued for months, or years. But Aeron pushed that out of his head. It was not something to worry about at the time, and he needed to focus his energies on the day ahead.

After they had eaten, Dark and Aeron put a bit more wood on the fire so it would last the night (near the pass, it got much colder at night than it did deeper into Tirranwn). Aeron lay away for quite some time though, gazing up into the fathomless heavens. The star of Saradomin was out that night, shining bright in the north. Aeron pondered what lay before him in this great journey. He still felt waves of anxiety overcome him, though a small, hidden part of him admitted he really was looking forward to it. That part of him relished the unknown. He supposed, with a smile that, that part of him was what chose him to be Dark's brother. With a satisfied sigh, Aeron slipped effortlessly into unconsciousness, awaiting tomorrow with a new vigor.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 4**

Dark and Aeron rose with the sun; not wanting to be caught in an unknown terrain without shelter before dark. For both of them this would be their first time outside of Tirranwn (at least, as far as Dark knew). This meant this was to be their first time to make contact with dwarves, and gnomes, and more humans. The scariest part of walking outside those gates though, was that they were walking blind. They did not know at all what they were going to face. There obviously was going to be a great deal of damage, but they did not know the extent, nor what new dangers they would face.

Dark and Aeron walked up to the gate, noticing the guards and signing in greeting. Both were relieved to see that they survived, being on the gate between their world and the rest of Runescape. Dark cursed the isolation they lived in for the umpteenth time (though she had blessed it as many times). All of a sudden, something flashed in the corner of Dark's eye. A human would have waved it off, but her finely tuned senses told her otherwise.

"Wait!" yelled Dark, just as the guards were making to operate the pulleys to open the gate doors. Looking to where she saw the movement, Dark spotted a small Saradomin owl perched in the crook of a nearby evergreen. With a smirk, she slowly approached the tree. Taking out her sling, she threw it in a blur with much accuracy and skill. It wrapped itself around the owl's legs, and it landed with a squawk onto a bed of pine needles below. "Dark, why let it live?" asked Aeron.

"It is the will of Seren. The Head Elf told me of a sign such as this when I sought council with him before we left," she lied smoothly. He shrugged and sat down, knowing this would take a while. Dark slowly approached the owl, cooing and imitating its call. Yet again, the Elder in his endless knowledge taught him how to tame owls as well, as they were useful messenger birds. It was calm, as she approached it. Slowly, she took the sling off the owl, already an idea forming in her head with memories from that meeting with that very interesting stranger.

Elves have an interesting way of bonding with animals, if they choose to. It is similar to when a witch bonds with a familiar, yet instead of merely overcoming its consciousness, the elves formed a mental bond with their chosen animal. It was a much purer, much more holistic ceremony. She drew a ring of salt around them with not regular mineral salt, but faerie salt. This insured that while her consciousness was vulnerable, no malevolent spirits could possess or access her mind; though that would be nearly nigh impossible in Tirranwn (having been cast over with ancient runes to repel any sort of demon), it was a traditional and cautionary measure. Dark also recited incantations, and drew the necessary runes. She then attempted to access the owl's mind; though when she did, she was a bit surprised to find that he answered back. Without any resistance, they joined minds. In that moment, Dark recited the final words to make the bond. A small amount of energy was drained from her, but the deed was done.

She and the owl were permanently bonded. It was not only her will (as owls were very useful creatures), but the will of Guthix and Seren, and she knew it as well as she knew the very skies above her.

"I am ready," said Dark with a satisfied, deciding nod. Aeron shrugged, still not knowing very much of what was going on, and followed Dark to the gate. Together, side by side, they walked into the land of Gielinor, and into the unknown.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

In the real world now. Dark was talking to Blodeuwedd (her owl, Blod for short), and Aeron was sitting, waiting for them to move on. He was still thinking as to why she had kept it. Under elven law, any non-humanoid creature that showed its loyalty to any other entity other than Guthix or Seren was automatically put subject to extermination. But, this was Dark, and he trusted her.

"You're mine now," whispered Dark to Blod. "And I need you to do something for me. You're a very smart owl, Blod. You must understand. Go to the city of Varrock, and see if there are any survivors. I will attach a note to your leg, and you're to bring it to them. Anyone you see, ok? Don't get hurt Blod. Please. I'll miss you too much," said Dark with a grin. With that, she pulled out a small piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal.

~Note~  
Greetings, to any survivor out there that still has a little humanity left,

I am one of the survivors. (Well, one of many, on my part. All the elves have survived, under the protection of the great and wise god, Guthix.) I am looking to help other survivors. Currently, we (only two of us, though) are near the city of Yanille. Please respond, making note if it is urgent or not, as we have other cities to visit. If not, we will still keep in touch. And when we come, we will come with food and healing. 

Sincerely and with hope,

Dark Menatathiel 

~End of Note~

Dark took out a small length of string, attaching it to Blod's leg. "Godspeed, little owl," whispered Dark, as she threw him into the morning sky. He took off, hooting in goodbye, with a knowing purpose, possibly holding the future of Runescape on his leg.

"What was that all about?" asked Aeron.

"I have sent a letter to Varrock, one of the greatest and most populated cities in Runescape, to see if there were any survivors, for I do not want to travel thousands of miles only to see an empty city," replied Dark.

"Well, can we go now? You dawdle and chat with your unholy bird, and we make little progress," Aeron said.

Laughing, Dark agreed, "Fine, let's go."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

Dark and Aeron were finally out in the real world. They passed through abandoned towns and villages without much event, as they found no survivors yet, save a man who was quite insane. He kept muttering about chickens, and seemed quite convinced Dark was a chinchompa.

They fell into a routine: walk, look for survivors, camp. For two weeks this was all they did, and it took a mental toll on the pair. They had lived their whole lives in a lush forest, with plenty of life and everything provided. Now, they were trying to survive in a dead land. But there were glimmers of hope here and there. Weeds and even some flowers started to grow back. A phoenix from the ashes, as one might say.

It was the first day of the third week, and they were almost to the Gnome Stronghold. Dark and Aeron didn't know what they would find, and despite having prepared themselves, they both found anxiety overcoming them. Finally, they saw a glimpse of the great wooden doors that guarded the stronghold close ahead; still intact. Dark started tearing up with relief. Something, someone could still be alive. They reached the doors, and simultaneously, Dark and Aeron called in the Ancient Language that all elder races know and trusted each other by. "We are friends!" rang out through the orchards (or what was left of them).

Immediately, a voice yelled out in the same language, "Who are you, and what purpose do you seek here?"

Aeron, being the eldest, called, "We are merely a company of two, though we are more than just that. We are elves, from the nomadic tribe of Isafdar! We seek shelter, and warmth, for no more than a fortnight. In return, we bring healing and hope."

The voice again called out, "Come forward," this time sounding less guarded. The great wooden doors sparkled to life, glimmering with enchantments, and creaked open on hinges that have long since been oiled. Dark and Aeron walked forward, wondering what would meet them. Dark asked anxiously, "Do you think we'll meet royalty? Do you think there are others like us that have already reached here? What about humans? Do you think some survived?"

"Dark, calm down," Aeron said laughing at her eagerness. "I haven't seen you this excited since you shot your first pawny. This is a long journey, one we do not know the result to yet, and won't for quite a while."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

Dark and Aeron were led to the main tree, and were stood before the Gnome King. "Welcome," he said in a surprisingly deep voice. "Friends, what is your purpose here?" he asked.

Aeron replied, "Your highness, we are traveling Runescape to find survivors, and offer healing and help when needed. We wanted to offer the same here."

To that the King replied with a smile, "Well, I'm afraid you're going to be short of work. Like the elves, we are well supplied and all is well. But we will offer our hospitality while you're here and help you get back on your way. Besides, though we have what we need, it is awfully boring here. Tell us news of the elves, and what you have found in your travels."

Aeron said, "Yes, you're Highness. But my companion and I are weary, so let us share news when we sup tonight."

The King then said, "Of course, of course. I shall have our maidens draw up warm baths for the both of you, and clean linens. Believe it or not, we keep clothes for humans, or in your case elves, lest travelers such as you share our hospitality.

With that Dark and Aeron were led out into another, smaller tree that housed a slightly large apartment with two bedrooms. In the bathrooms, there lay tubs full of steaming water. They were not used to such luxury. And being elves, they were not welcoming this inorganic method of washing fully. Still, Aeron hopped in after less than a second of debating thought. Dark, still a bit wary, decided what harm a bath could do and climbed into the tub as well. Then they both fully cleaned, shed their elven clothes (though packed them away, because gnome clothing was not known for its strength) for the silken clothing that lay next to the tubs. They then proceeded to walk back to the big tree.

Dark and Aeron were led by guards to the second level, which held the feasting room. The King called to them, "Friends, you are guests of honor, sit at my table." They sat side by side next to the King's advisor, who sat next to the King in high-backed wooden chairs that no doubt were older than them.

"My people! These are friends from the nomadic tribe of Isafdar. Welcome them," the King yelled, addressing the whole of the feast room.

That was when things started to go wrong. Very, horribly wrong. Unexpectedly, all the gnomes in the room wielded concealed crude weapons. It was also at that moment when Aeron and Dark realized they had none. They were left, along with their things back at the apartment.

The second thing that Aeron and Dark came to notice was that cuffs now bound them to their wooden chairs. The King slowly stood up, and walked around to face them. With a mixture of sorrow and lust in his eyes he addressed them, "My friends, I am truly sorry. But the elves were left off better than the gnomes and our lands are no longer as gifted with fertility as they once were. We do not often find travelers who travel so willingly into the Stronghold. It was all too easy to convince a pair of ignorant elves from Tirranwn that we were truly offering our hospitality. But I suppose you will end up serving your purpose. In a way…"

But Dark wasn't listening. Instead, she was frantically reciting a summoning spell, unbeknownst to the King or any other gnome. A few trees away her green robes started to twitch, but wouldn't move. Dark sensed this and knew that the trees, embedded with ancient enchantments, were interfering with her signal. Desperately she started to recite runes again, this time runes of protection. And then weird things started to happen.

Aeron was busy pleading for his life but while he was doing that, a change was coming over Dark. Her hair started sparkling with a magikal presence. She seemed to have lost any knowing of where she was, and fell into a kind of trance. Dark started whispering in a strange language, older than the Ancient Language that once governed Runescape. Somehow, Aeron knew it was the language of the Gods. He then realized what was happening and started reciting runes of protection over the two of them. He didn't know what Dark was doing, but he knew it mustn't be interrupted. He didn't even need to remember the prophecy to know that much.

Dark's and Aeron's cuffs were suddenly released, and all the gnomes within a 12 foot radius were knocked down, dead or unconscious, it wasn't known at the time. Dark seemed to have come out of her trance at the moment, but a magickal presence still lingered about her. She anxiously shouted, "Aeron, we must fight!" Using the nearest weapons (unfortunately adding up to only 5 butter knives and a fork), Dark and Aeron stood back to back, surrounded by another wave of gnomes.

They were fighting for their lives, and fighting well. Dark was more learned in magic, as Aeron was only training to be a traveling guide, so she focused on maintaining her stead flow of energy while Aeron was fighting using extremely deadly techniques of melee. Throwing silverware and whatever else was near with lightening speed, the gnomes around him seemed to drop like flies. Dark meanwhile was still focusing her energy on not only spells of protection, but fighting off the abrasive wave of vicious gnomes. With each blast that killed off a dozen gnomes, two dozen more seemed to have come in their place. Aeron was also losing stamina rapidly, and Dark slowly found it harder and harder to maintain that flow of energy.

In probably the worst time possible, Dark went into a trance again, this one deeper than the previous. It was an eerie sight and her hair once again was crackling with unnatural electricity, eyes shut with either unconsciousness or concentration. She also strangely seemed to be levitating. Then, a final decision ended the battle. Her eyes opened instantly with glowing irises. Dark yelled out the language of the gods in an inhuman voice that sounded like many and one, and then there was a flash of light. All the gnomes in the room were killed on the spot, and she fell to the ground. Dark lay on the floor, unconscious, and Aeron, suddenly realizing what had happened, flew to her side.

"Dark...Dark! DARK! Wake up! Dark! Wake up!" He started applying CPR when he was unable to wake her. Here was his little sister, someone he helped raise. Someone he grew up with. He didn't protect her. He didn't say, "No, Dark. The gnomes are up to trouble. It's not safe." Because of him, she might die.

Dark's eyes started to flicker open and she started coughing. She opened her eyes, looked up at Aeron, then at the wreckage around them. Wearily, she said, "Aeron, what the hell did you do?"

Laughing and half-crying, Aeron said, "Dark... You did this. What the hell did YOU do?"

To that, she replied with an understanding sigh, "Once again, I have been blessed and saved by the great god Guthix. But this time, I have not only been blessed, but marked. Aeron, I believe I carry a sort of god power. Something that awakens only in a time of emergency, I suppose, such as when we're almost kidnapped and killed by a hoard of cannibal gnomes. Seren. I really hope these weren't the last of them. I always did like gnome ball..."

She then quickly explained her previous encounter with Guthix, something she never told anyone before. Aeron just said, "Oh. Well, we need to pack up and get moving quickly. The enchantments are broken on the stronghold doors and looters will sooner or later make their way here." He helped her up, and together they headed back to the apartment to gather their things, still thinking and wondering about what had just happened. It was quite a lot for someone to absorb in such a short period of time, especially after they had just nearly been killed.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8-Beyond Humanity**

~In Varrock~

_Damn it_, _why can't the neighbors keep their cat inside? _Zhanna thought, deridingly. For some ironic reason, it rather liked Zhanna and no matter how many times she checked her doors and windows, it managed to make its way inside her house. But, the feeling wasn't mutual and after waking up to see it on her chest staring at her with those beady eyes, she was about reading to leave its skin outside her neighbor's yard on a flagpole. See, Zhanna Ivanov was a werewolf. She was bitten several years before in an unfortunate encounter with a werewolf, an encounter she never talked about as her parents were also killed in it. She was found quite bloody in a pile of hay, by a man. Knowing what had happened, he tediously nursed her back to health, while mentally preparing her to learn to live with her "condition". Still, though he was quite interesting, this man was quite enigmatic and to this day Zhanna still only knew him as Moriz and the fact that he too was a werewolf. From that so-very-fateful day on, Zhanna was his pupil, and he, a learned and experienced tutor. But, werewolves were often frowned upon and shunned. Unbeknownst to Zhanna, Moriz wanted to protect her from this. He as a boy (being born with the disease) had to go through it alone, and it would be very emotionally traumatizing for Zhanna. She had lived for thirteen years in luxury and without having to worry what would happen every time a full moon was out, and going from that to a world of begging and lack of hospitality, she would never make it through emotionally unscathed.

So living in Canafis with its harsh terrain in the middle of a swamp, Zhanna was easily isolated from the rest of society. But being only 16, she was miserable. Never being able to do simple things such as going even to the market, were forbidden. She hated being treated like a dirty secret. So like what any other 16 year old would do, she snuck out. Just because she was a werewolf didn't mean she couldn't have any fun, or freedom for that matter. Each time she left, she stayed in Varrock longer and longer. The longest she stayed before this time was about four days, and that was when she made arrangements to rent out a small flat on the east side of Varrock. She was a skilled planter, so she paid for her board with what she made of her plants and herbs, which she sold at the meager market the other citizens managed to set up since the disaster.

Zhanna shoved the cat off the bed and got up with a stretch. Smoothing out the thin blanket that covered the bed, she wondered why Moriz had not yet started looking for her. She has been gone nearly a week, and the last time she returned home he yelled at her for nearly an hour before giving her triple the amount of work he usually did. Still, she relished the time she did have in Varrock and made no further moments towards finding out what Moriz was doing.

Zhanna changed into warmer clothing (it was nearly the end of fall) and coaxed the fire in the small hearth back to life. The cat started yowling in the corner. Irritated, Zhanna chucked it out the front door, where it landed on its feet with a screech. She then started her ritual of chores she does daily before she goes to the market. Being a werewolf really wasn't that much different from being human, except "her time of the month" tended to be a bit more uncomfortable.

After the market, Zhanna usually goes to what's left of the library to salvage what books she could. Looters left it alone as only a very small percentage of Varrock could read, and of that percentage no one really cared about books. There were more important matters at hand. Zhanna had a small collection of various tomes already on a small shelf next to her bed. Most of them were damaged to an extent, though she did find one preserved in oiled bear skin. That one was most peculiar, and her favorite as it told of Prifddinas, the beautiful elf city that grew from crystal.

Daily duties done, Zhanna donned a warm green cloak and stepped outside into the chilly October air. Waving to the neighbors with a mocking smile, she started walking down the dirt road (which used to have cobblestones, but were cleared as they made the road un-travelable after the disaster). Suddenly, her finely tuned ears heard a rush of wings from above. Looking, she saw it was a small owl. The owl seemed to notice her, and dived. To Zhanna's surprise, he perched himself without apprehension on her shoulder. She asked herself again why she attracted animals so much.

Zhanna noticed there was a note attached to his leg. Untying it, she quickly read the message with growing excitement. Hands shaking, she found a piece of charcoal lying nearby and scribbled something on the back on the note. Tying it again, she told the owl, "Take this back to Dark, little sova." With that, he flew back off into the morning sky, bringing with him what Zhanna hoped to be the saving letter of Varrock and its people.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

Dark and Aeron found themselves back on the road again. They fell into the same routine, walking, camping, on their way to Camelot. A week after their departure from the Stronghold, they reached Camelot and Seer's Village. It was in complete ruins. The castle held up surprisingly well, but everything else was smoldering or torn. They approached the largest of the buildings, the castle, with caution. Aeron told Dark, "I'll go in first. Wait here until I give the OK." Dark grumbled, but agreed. Aeron didn't want to take any more chances her and she knew it, but she still didn't like being treated like a youngling.

Aeron cautiously stepped inside, calling out, "Hello? Is anyone there?" The only thing that responded was silence. He climbed to the second story and called out again. It seemed the castle was deserted. "Dark! It's alright! Come in!" he yelled out. Dark heard his call, and met up upstairs. They explored the rest of the rooms, and concluded that though the castle was protected with enchantments, everyone deserted this castle. It was almost dusk and they decided to use the range to cook dinner. Unfortunately, it was for some reason nearly melted completely, so they had to make due with a small camp fire.

How strange, Dark thought, that this was once a castle, a stronghold of royalty. It once housed the greatest heroes in Runescape, and here we are, two insignificant elves, making a campfire on the beautiful marble floor that used to house great balls. After dinner, Dark and Aeron decided their sleeping arrangements

Dark decided to sleep on the balcony, to keep watch, and be able to see Blod if he somehow came back that night. Aeron would sleep on the ground floor, to guard the entrance. Dark took out her flute and practiced a few simple tunes. It was calming to her, and the sound of home made her and Aeron somehow feel safer. She leaned against the cold stone wall, eyes shut, cross-legged, almost meditating.

All of a sudden she heard a flurry of wings, and she opened her eyes to Blod, no more than two inches from her nose. In his naturally curious fashion, he cocked his head, peering at Dark with a mix of love, loyalty, and hunger for the dinner he had yet caught that night.

"There you are! I was worried about you, silly bird. Have you a reply?" He hopped down from her bent leg and held his leg out for Dark. She read the message, eyebrows raised in apprehension.

Dear Dark Menatathiel, 

There are currently 21 survivors in Varrock, some injured and needing medication that we cannot give. We have no leader to guide us, though one man came along who had Hero blood in him and looks like a promising leader. I am Zhanna Ivanov who came to visit Varrock a few weeks ago. After seeing the condition it was in, I decided to stay and help out. I cannot say for certain if our situation is urgent for I have not seen any other cities and therefore cannot compare. There are only a few buildings intact, as well as 2 priests (though all they do is quarrel about Saradomin and Zaros) and everyone else has been finding what food and scraps in what is left of Varrock. If you find these conditions worse than other cities, than please come right away. It is wonderful to hear from another person, and if you do not come, please still stay in touch.

Fellow survivor,  
Zhanna Ivanov

"Good boy," Dark said when she looked up again, and handed Blod a piece of meat leftover from dinner. He flew away to find his own perch for the night, silver wings shining brightly in the full moon.

Dark ran downstairs, and told Aeron about the message she received. "There are humans. Survivors. We must help as soon as possible," he said half in awe. Dark nodded replied, "We teleport to Varrock at dawn."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Aeron was fell asleep a little after, exhausted from the day's travels, but Dark was still quite awake, quietly practicing her flute. She couldn't sleep out of excitement. A human! Not ever meeting one, that aspect overrode her excitement that there were survivors in a selfish desire. Maybe she could tell her about her parents. While Dark seized her flute playing to ponder the possibilities of learning more about her parents, she realized something was amiss. Out of her excitement, she didn't realize it. But the crickets have stopped chirping, and the air was filled with a cold and unholy silence. Dark stood up, and with her elf eyes made a quick sweep of the perimeter of the castle, unable to detect the source of the uneasiness. Unknown to her though, a creature was slowly crawling towards the castle. A powerful, deadly creature. Only when he was twenty yards away did Dark notice it. It was moving with a slightly limp, and its shoulders fell up and down in labored crawling. The clouds moved slowly from the moon, and the silver light of the full moon fell upon the creature. Dark gasped with dismay.

It was a werewolf, its feral features cast in relief upon its snarling face. Its fur was black, with streaks of silver running along its spine. Tatters of the clothes that it was wearing before he transformed were still hanging on by the very threads. But the interesting thing about it was that regardless of its unreadable imposing demeanor, the wolf was still quite small. This though made it in no way any more formidable. _How could I be so stupid? It was a full moon; I should have put up more wards_. Dark quickly made ready for battle, stringing her bow and unsheathing her small elven sword. She swiftly ran downstairs to alert Aeron. He was awake, garbed in similar battle wear and smiling grimly at Dark as he realized that she too noticed the intruder. Dark extinguished the fire to cold embers with a few select words. Aeron moved to inside of the door, motioning for Dark to follow in preparation for a sneak attack. They both knew that the werewolf was aware of their presence, but it didn't know where they were, allowing them the advantage.

Dark and Aeron both stiffened, weapons in hand when they heard amplified sniffing and a scratching at the door. The left door on Aeron's side opened a crack. They both stayed in the shadows, very still. Without notice, the door all of a sudden flew open, and the beast pounced into the room, haunches raised. Aeron jumped after it, swinging his sword with astonishing speed. But to his surprise, the creature jumped to the side just a swiftly, missing the blow. Dark fired a volley of arrows towards its flank, with only one finding its target. The werewolf fell to the ground with a very wolf-like yelp, licking its wound. Aeron stood over it, sword raised, ready to deliver the fatal blow.

Suddenly, a flash of light filled the room, blinding Dark and Aeron. Aeron fell backwards, caught off balance by the sudden light, and Dark fell to the ground with a yelp due to its intensity. The light faded, and Dark and Aeron slowly stood up with lights dancing before their eyes. When their eyes adjusted once again adjusted to the darkness, what lay in the beast's place was no longer a feral wolf being, but a boy. More specifically, a human-like, naked boy with an arrow stuck in his thigh.

"Dammit! Why the bloody hell did you have to go and shoot me?" he said through his teeth. Upon closer inspection, he appeared to be about Dark's age, with dark ear-length hair that put his pale skin in sharp contrast. He had chiseled features, with a sharp nose and wolfishly-pointed ears. Overall, he was rather handsome. With a few more colorful phrases, the boy pulled out the arrow with a silent grimace, much to Dark and Aeron's surprise.

"Well, why the hell did you come out of the woods in the middle of the night to disrupt our evening?" replied Dark. Aeron rolled his eyes. His sister could certainly be overbearing, if not foolhardy.

"I was looking for food, you highness," the boy replied, words dripping with sarcasm. "Zaros, all you elves are alike. You believe the whole flippin' world revolves around you. Everything and everyone has to cater to your every whim, and if it isn't, you magic it up and create a mess of things."

"Well, what would you do if a WEREWOLF was walking towards you in the middle of the night? Did you expect us to throw you a tea party with our heads on platters for dessert?" Dark said, confusion and fear subsiding into rage.

"I was shot at! Hello! I have a hole in my leg!"

"You miserable, mor-."

"HEY! Both of you shut it," said Aeron, finally wanting to stop the pointless bickering. He dug through his bags until he found a blanket, trousers, and a tunic. Tossing them to the boy, he said, "It was a misunderstanding, albeit a foolish one. Good sir," the boy rolling his eyes. "Let me apologize on behalf of me and my sister for needlessly attacking you. I am sorry for causing you unnecessary harm. Allow me the honor to heal that for you."

"Good sir, allow me the honor of declining your offer. I am a werewolf, and not only would magic not work on me, but I would prefer for fate and nature to take their course. I will though accept bandaging," the boy replied.

"That I can do," said Aeron with a smile. Digging again through his bags, he called to the boy,—who was occupied with a staring match with Dark—"So what may I call you?"

"My name is Cyrus. And yours?"

"I am called Aeron, and this is my sister Dark, who is usually much more polite," to which Dark replied to with a hiss.

Applying the bandage, Cyrus said, "So what might two elves have to do, hundreds of leagues from their home in a desolate wasteland? Certainly it's not for a midnight stroll."

Dark replied, "We are here to heal and to help, more than any disgusting looter like you would want to do."

"Still smarting about our little tussle? My, I was taught that the elves were much more forgiving. Let me then make the first gesture in an apology. I, Cyrus of Camelot, hereby host my apology to Dark the Elf, and forever extend my gratitude towards your hospitality."

"The apology is accepted out of politeness, though I will watch you," Dark said grudgingly.

"Thank you. You are after all carrying out your mission by helping me. And Aeron, thank you for the clothes. The elven weavers are the finest in the world, and no doubt I shall make sure I do not wear these, next cycle." After stowing their weapons, Aeron and Dark sat down around the coals of the fire. Restarting it with a few words, Dark had the fire roaring again. Aeron set a few strips of pawny meat on a spit, and threw a few handfuls of salt over them.

"We'll not devoid you of the dinner you did not have the opportunity to have. So tell us Cyrus, what brings you to Camelot Castle?" said Aeron.

"I am a traveler of the lands of Runescape, and it has been long since I have had a permanent home. I find what I can, and live off of it; though in my travels I search for literature, or any tales of history from before the incident. I was one of the lucky ones in my clan to have been taught to read. Being changed at a young age, it was all I was good for. That, and the chores that the human women did. No Dark, they weren't slaves," he said to her furious glare. "They were relatives or lovers of the older men in our clan. Anyways, all we have now of our history is merely oral, or those few tomes I find or are in the Varrock Library. People are too busy rebuilding everything to write anything down anyways. I fear my work may never be done," Cyrus said with a mournful sigh. Dark's respect suddenly increased for him. He was no beggar, nor looter. Here was a boy—a man even, that not only was of true character, but could help them.

"Cyrus, let me complete your apology with one of my own. I am sincerely sorry for my behavior tonight. You are no looter, nor beggar, nor creature that I have reason to fear. My head for all these years have been full of superstitious, false beliefs of werewolves, though in my short time with you I have known them all to be different now. Let me say again, I am sorry and I have dishonored myself. And let me also extend an invitation. We are going to Varrock to help the survivors, and as you surely know it has the biggest library in the world. We would be delighted to have your company with us as we travel," said Dark. Aeron listened with wide eyes, but made no objection.

"Dark, Aeron, thank you for the hospitality. I believe, if it's fine with both of you, that I shall accompany you to Varrock. I don't have much, but I'll bring what I do and I shall do my share of the work."

Aeron replied, "We would be honored. Having a scholar travel with us would be extremely interesting. Make sure you bring you manuscripts."

"That I shall, and hopefully they will be valuable additions to the library in Varrock," Cyrus said. "Well, I should be off. I shall collect my things, and meet you in the morning in the courtyard."

"We shall see you then. Take the meat before you go, though," said Aeron.

Grabbing the spit, Cyrus bowed, said goodnight, and then vanished back into the woods. There was a flash of bright light and then a wolf could be seen with a stick in its mouth, slightly limping. Dark and Aeron hung at the door of the castle, watching him take off, as a werewolf is always quite an interesting site. Saying silent goodbyes to each other, they each when back to their bed rolls. Dark fell asleep easily, dreaming of a wolf with silver in its fur.


End file.
